


134 Rue de Paradis

by funkeymonkey



Category: Kpop - Fandom, NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Letters, Love Letters, M/M, Novel, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25520353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkeymonkey/pseuds/funkeymonkey
Summary: To work through a particularly strong bout of self-pity, Jaehyun starts writing letters to a fictional address. It comes as a surprise when someone responds.
Relationships: JohnJae, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun & Suh Youngho | Johnny, jaehyun/johnny
Comments: 11
Kudos: 45





	1. Prologue

_September 18th, 2018_

_Dear Johnny,_

_It's been a while … I don't know if it is even appropriate writing to you after so long, not to mention the likelihood of you still living in the same apartment. Our friendship has been on my mind recently, a lot, actually. I keep thinking about how things would be if I just replied… I don’t imagine you are the same person that I was close to years ago, and that would be fair, time has changed me as well some for the best, and others not as much so. I keep trying to imagine a matured version of you seven years later, but for some reason, it’s proven to be difficult. You were such a free spirit then, I can't seem to picture a version of you, who is settled down and married. I hope you are well though._

_I was at the grocery store yesterday trying to figure out what bread I wanted, and you came into mind. Not that you have anything to do with my dilemma of choosing between Rye and whole wheat, but somehow in aisle nine of the grocery store you showed up. It seems like most things remind me of you these days. The other day the smell of coffee that wafted across the street from a nearby café had pulled me in on my walk home from work. You're right, coffee does have a bad reputation of being a luxury that can only be enjoyed on the go. Sitting there, in that cafe with a cup settled at the side of my laptop, it was the most centered I had felt in weeks. Suddenly the writer's block that had been haunting me for the past month had disappeared. It's unfortunate that my body had changed since the last time we had communicated. It seems that even the small amounts of caffeine at 5 pm was enough to keep me up the whole night. Things I had never thought I associated a memory to, still remind me of you. There is a man who walks his poodle and crosses by our building at 8:20 sharp every morning, and I couldn't help but remember your comment about how they reminded you of a dog wearing those judicial wigs. You said that you imagine they were the judges of the dog world and it would be a lie if I said that didn't bring a smile to my face. Interesting how a man staring at you and your dog, with a smile plastered on his lips on a random Wednesday can make strangers uncomfortable._

_I know all of this may not mean much after so long, but I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for not keeping in touch. I was young and insecure about the person I was back then, but I didn’t want that insecurity to be the reason for another regret of not reaching out. Whether you receive this, if you receive this, I don’t expect there to be a response to this letter, but I needed to let you know that I miss you. I owe a lot to you and I’m thankful for it._

_Yours,_   
_Jaehyun_


	2. The Hour Past Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a book called The Hour Past Midnight in this fic. This has nothing to do with the book that actually is published. Please don't misunderstand and associate my writing to the respectable work that the author has done. That would be a complete and utter disservice to them.

Another year had passed almost in the blink of an eye. 2004 had been a wonderful year, graduating from university was all that he wanted, so how had it all gone downhill the next? Mindless phrases were strewn across the screen aimlessly. At some point, there was a spark of passion that jolted them into place, but that too was quickly waning. _File. Move to Bin._ ‘A hit to Stem-Cell Research’, cloning was becoming big talk in the nation after the exposé of Hwang Woo-suk, and he was once again stuck writing the same report that could truly only be described as tabloid trash. Jaehyun had managed to write a couple of sentences before a frustrated sigh left his lips. Today was not the day. When was it ever? The keys made an awful clamour of clicks as the pair of hands violently fell on top of it, he could hear the sound over his headphones that played a light beat intended to help him concentrate.

“You good, bro?” His roommate asks and Jaehyun could only groan in response. The article was due at the end of the week but he couldn't find enough motivation or energy to care. Closing the laptop before him, his eyes settled on the book that was on his nightstand. The Hour Past Midnight, the book cover was foggy, midnight blue painted across the front with the distant sparkling lights of the Eiffel tower. The story set in Paris had a certain ambience that pulled him in a little deeper each time he read the book. Like the comfort of drowning in a sad song after a breakup.

_I have lost count of the times I've stood here, at the edge of the water, gazing up at the Notre Dame in all of her glory. The spire stands in proud assurance, in character with a city that has more than its share of monuments to grandeur. It has the effect of diminishing all else to insignificance._

_One is great, or one is not._

_The John Robins of the world who find success, the giants of the industry etch their silhouette into the horizon, and I stand in the shadows, in the darkness of an unfulfilled existence and stare up with mixed resentment and reverence at those unreachable heights. But there is a beauty in unattainability, there is a beauty in John Robin, the anomaly, the dawn that pushed though the hour past midnight._

_So I write._

A teardrop stained Jaehyun’s cheek as it rolled down, soon to be stopped by his hand that quickly wiped it away. His instinct is to turn to his wall, hide the fact that a book had produced such feelings within him, only to feel foolish for attempting to hide his emotions from an empty room. There was something about the ending that had pulled at his heartstrings, but the romanticized expression of sadness was cathartic… and somehow unsettling. Society repeats the stories of those who became successful against all odds. The John Robins of the world who fought against everything to earn their place, because they were the anomaly among the billions who tried. No one talks about the average joe, who lost their lives to a mediocre dream, never set a record, never found fame and glory. But in this, the fictional character was as ordinary as a person could be, presenting their story, and told it with their own bleak ending. He was much like the protagonist, James Marseille. No, in many ways, he was James Marseille.

If he were to be asked later what had prompted him to write, he might not have an answer. Maybe it started as his way of release. Jaehyun wasn’t one to freely admit that he wasn’t happy with his situation, but through James Marseille, through the words he had written as the character in his favourite book, it was easy. His innermost thoughts, some that he had not recognized himself, found their way onto the piece of paper. It wasn’t meant to be mailed out, no one was supposed to read it. All that Jaehyun had planned was to get it out of his system, and then it would be in the trash right after.

And yet, there he was writing out the fictional mailing address for John Robin on the envelope.

_To: John ROBIN,_  
_134 Rue de Paradis,_  
_75010, Paris_  
_France_

_January 6th, 2006_

_Dear John Robin,_

_What is it that sets you apart from everyone else who fell short of success?_

_You and I are the same person; childhood and education identical. We both started at the same place and yet, you have reached further levels than I knew was possible. The only conclusion that my thoughts produce is that your success can only be credited to luck. Maybe you were at the right place, at the right time. Opportunity came to you because the circumstances lined up perfectly for you to advance. But then, to reduce all your efforts in fighting against all the odds down to the word ‘luck’ also seems unfair._

_If that is the case, what is it really that sets you apart from everyone else?_

_Maybe we are not the same, maybe I am not enough._

_James Marseille_

  
A couple of letters followed the first one. Jaehyun had found it therapeutic, as if he was living his own life out loud. January and February passed so quickly that it felt as if it was in the span of a week. It’s difficult to remember what had happened during the time, as days dissolved into one another.

‘Korean Railroad Workers’ Union Walk-Out; Four Day Strike Causes Major Delays’ Jaehyun was three hours late on Friday, March 3rd, 2006. He was told to arrive two hours early to hand in his report, and instead, he handed in a half-assed report ten minutes prior to the newspaper’s final edit. The coaching that he had gotten from the manager that day was almost a spiritual experience. The brutally colourful choices of words that were thrown at him during that meeting was enough to send him back to his desk dumbfounded. Suffice to say, his article was not printed that day.

Jaehyun let out a frustrated sigh, back hunched over as he rested his arms on his desk. The plan was to get something on his resume solid enough to get himself a real job, but here he was still at the same dead-end yellow journalism career. Normally any good writer would want to get recognition for their work, but right at this point, he was more upset about him being stuck in this job for a year and a half rather than the fact that his article didn’t make the final cut. Jaehyun straightened up, and as if it was second nature, he was soon grabbing a pen and paper to write.

_March 3rd 2006_

_Dear John Robin,_

_This is the fourth letter that I’m writing to what I can only presume is the abyss. I keep wondering what happened to the letters that I had previously sent. It has been 2 months since the first mail, and I was expecting it to be returned unopened… but nothing? I can only assume that it is lost, floating around somewhere in Paris searching for an owner. Or maybe it ended up in the hands of a postal worker to whom this has been a source of entertainment. Oddly, I am starting to hope that it’s the latter._

_You see, all writers have their professional work and then what they write just for themselves. These letters are mine. Ironically enough, the ‘professional’ work that I do, is what I’d hope no one reads. The sensationalist conservative propaganda that I have to write on a daily basis is solely to either entertain or terrify old businessmen. These letters, at the very least, they’re honest._

_I’m going to imagine that there is a silent reader to these letters that I sent, you wouldn’t be able to write back to deny it could you?_

_James Marseille_

Jaehyun took the long way back home that day, stopping by the post office to drop off the latest letter that he had written. The feeling that he had each time that he sent the letter was unlike anything he had experienced before. Another couple of weeks passed, it would be a lie if he had said that he didn’t think of sending another letter. But even Jaehyun could admit that it was starting to get a little pathetic. It wasn’t as if he had no friends, he had one living with him who would be more than willing to listen, and yet there he was, writing to the unknown.

“Today is April 2nd 9:45 am, Saemangeum Seawall has finished construction and is said to open to the public by the end of the month.” The female voice on the radio continued to speak as he made his breakfast.

“Hey, do you know who used to live here before us?” The words were a mix of accented English and Korean. It was Yuta, his roommate. The man had come to Korea a year ago and it was amazing how quickly he had learned the language. In no way was he fluent, but it was more than enough for them to communicate between English, Korean, and the odd Japanese word Yuta taught him. Jaehyun’s attention shifted from his breakfast to his roommate.

“I think it was a Baekhyun something? Why?”

“There’s this mail that we got a couple of days ago, I talked to some of the people next door in case they got the apartment number wrong… but no one knows a James Marseille or a John Robins from Paris. Should I put it back so it returns it to the sender?”

“NO-” So now, Jaehyun was all ears. He had almost forgotten about the eggs on the stove- almost, because he quickly turns it off  
and sets the pan aside. Something else was suddenly of greater priority than his breakfast. Yuta looked confused, maybe that was a bit too much of a reaction. “I mean…” Jaehyun wipes his hands on his apron, “don’t do that… um.” He was not about to tell Yuta that the letter was for him and that he was James Marseille, but he needed an excuse to have it. “You know what, I’ll just take that, yeah.” Yes, nailed it. He grabbed the piece of mail from the man’s hands before folding it and putting it in his back pocket.

They stared at each other for a moment, Yuta looking at him as if waiting for an explanation but all that he had received before Jaehyun made his way out of the apartment was, “Okay… well, Bye.”


	3. What's in a Name?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me reiterate that The hour past Midnight in this fic, is truly fictional, cause-- well you'll see.

The brisk walk home from the train station was exactly what Jaehyun needed to clear his mind of the thoughts that the letter he received that morning produced. Jitters that had him tensed up the whole day seemed to lessen as the cold air swept under his jacket. He pulled his jacket tighter in an attempt to keep warm, and quickened his pace so that he was inside the apartment building sooner. 

Winter had come early that year, the temperature already dipping below zero degrees Celsius in early November. Christmas was just around the corner, and the streets were already filled with the decorations. One OK Rock’s ‘Keep IT Real’ had been blasting in his ear in an attempt to drown out his thoughts. The Japanese lyrics that played were mostly incomprehensible to Jaehyun, but Yuta had explained enough for it to feel as though even the song was mocking him.

‘Keep it real without fear, so that our feelings become honest.’ Jaehyun could only scoff at himself. Taking his headphones off, he entered the apartment to find his roommate already in, and sitting on the couch poking at the parcel that Jaehyun had received. Pulling at the flaps of the open parcel, he was peering into the packets of sweets that it held. For a grown man, he looked like a cat trying to sneak treats from the bag while its human wasn't watching.

“It's _clearly_ some kind of cookie in there, can we not open it yet?” Yuta groaned, though it came out like a whine more than anything. Jaehyun doesn’t really need to answer that, instead he gave the man a look and that was enough to send the message. He had opened the parcel that morning to check it’s contents, but held back from fully indulging in them before he had the chance to read the letter that went along with it. 

“I told you, I haven’t read the letter yet.” Jaehyun says as he takes off his shoes and jacket. He is about to join Yuta in the living room, maybe take a seat at the couch to relax after a long day of work. But then he notices the look on Yuta’s face. He knows that look well enough to know that nothing good can come of it. It was the same look that the man had given him after the third consecutive weekend Jaehyun declined his offer to go out, because he just wasn’t ‘feeling it’. Yuta wants to talk. Grabbing the letter out of the parcel, Yuta inspected it. He was never one to pry, so he doesn’t open it, rather stands up and pushes the envelope into Jaehyun’s hands. 

“You usually have the letter read between the mailbox and our front door, what’s going on?” The look of pointed scrutiny on Yuta’s face was intensifying. He could almost imagine their apartment suddenly warping into a therapy session and Yuta was transforming into Sigmund Freud. It was happening before his eyes.  _ Nope _ . He needed an exit.

“Stop, okay? It’s really fine, I just haven’t gotten a chance yet. That’s all.” There’s an unconvinced look on the man’s face, which Jaehyun stubbornly ignores before he makes his way into his room. He hears the man shout an ‘I don’t believe you’ to Jaehyun before he puts on his head phones again and slumps onto the bed. 

The letters had become a constant in Jaehyun’s life, it had become something that he looked forward to every month. While it had started out as Jaehyun’s escape from his work, it had now become a routine. The person that wrote to him under the pseudonym of John Robin had become… a friend? But opening the letter that morning, a question caught his eyes that he couldn’t let go of. Putting the envelope that was forced upon him aside, Jaehyun stretched over his bed to reach the nightstand. Tucked between the pages of  _ The Hour Past Midnight  _ were the letters from John. He opens up the first one that he ever received, eight months ago. 

_ March 15th 2006 _

_ Dear James,  _

_So I’m assuming that you read The Hour Past Midnight, and got inspired. I was wondering when you would get tired of the pity party that you were throwing yourself. After the last letter, I wanted to write back to assure you that someone is reading your letters. Also, I was kind of curious about this sensationalist conservative propaganda that you have to write about._

_I have one question. Why The Hour Past Midnight? I’ve read it, and it’s not a great book. It doesn’t have a good ending, not much of a plotline, a horrible depiction of the city of Paris, and honestly, who writes a hundred letters to someone they are not getting a response from? How the author got through 200 pages of unironic self-loathing while doing absolutely nothing about it is beyond me. Look, even you, a writer, got tired after the third. The fourth one was actually kind of funny._

_I think that was a rude enough start to this letter. Anyway, the address that was on the book is actually a real place. While it’s not an upscale condo, it’s a modest apartment complex. You did not include an apartment number, but being the only John who spoke fluent English, naturally, the letter ended up in my hands. Well. The actual reason that I got the letter is probably that I’m the only one here that looks like they might get a letter from South Korea. So there’s that too… fair enough, I do look Korean. But that’s as far as my connection to the country goes._

_ So, James Marseille, tell me. If not spreading propaganda, what do you want to do? _

_ Yours truly,  _

_ J.R. _

Jaehyun couldn’t help but smile, he remembered being so offended the first time that he read what the man had to tell him. He had even begun to write back a strongly worded letter of annoyance- how could one possibly criticize a work of art that he held so close to his heart? It wasn’t often that Jaehyun felt so connected to a work of fiction, but the book was something that he had read over and over again, finding the beauty of the words bloom each time. The cherry on top was the stranger’s audacity to criticize the letters that he had written himself. No one asked  _ him  _ for his input.

The argument about their opinions of the book lasted another three letters before they agreed to disagree, and settled it at that. It wouldn’t be the last time that the topic would come up. Nevertheless, they continued to write. Conversation shifted from the book to Jaehyun’s dreams, it was odd because he felt completely comfortable divulging his innermost thoughts to this stranger from across the world. He told the man that he wanted to move to the US, to become a local journalist chasing relevant stories. An unrealistic dream. The man that wrote under the name of John Robin told him that it was exactly the type of thing the character of James Marseille would say in the book, and Jaehyun was better than that.

There was a certain image that Jaehyun had formed of the person who wrote to him each month without fail. While Jaehyun had meticulously and intentionally chosen each word in order to convey his thoughts, the letters he received back seemed effortless- raw. There was carelessness in the construction. The scratched out words that indicated a shift in thought, the unfiltered attitude to life that was clear between the lines. John Robin was no longer the symbolization of success from his book, but was now imbued with depth and color, a personality who inspired him to push himself further by pure force of character.

And yet, Jaehyun couldn’t quite form a full picture. Or maybe it was his reluctance to do so. There was a comfort in anonymity. Even as John shared more about himself, explained that his disconnect from the Korean culture wasn’t disinterest, but because he was adopted by an American couple, that he was a photographer by profession- Jaehyun learned all this with the feeling of reading a book. Collecting each detail to weave into the ever evolving tapestry of a character profile.

Which was why reading that one sentence had caught Jaehyun by surprise. It wasn't a personal question, actually it was anything  _ but _ . Still, it was enough to break the fourth wall that Jaehyun had created. 

Jaehyun reluctantly unfolded the newest letter he’d received. 

_ December 9th 2006 _

_ Dear James,  _

_ I know it's a character’s name, but I’m honestly getting tired of reading the name John. That’s the name that my parents gave me, so from ages one to eight, I kept it. But ever since third grade, when we were taught cursive letters, I decided that it would be ‘Johnny’ from that point on. I think it looks better with the extra ‘ny’. Besides, John is a middle-aged car salesman from Chicago. I’m Johnny.  _

_ Oh and by the way, you’ll be happy to know that I tried the recipe that you insisted I should. There’s a new store about a half hour away that sells Korean groceries, so I was able to get some of the things that you included in the recipe. Not everything, but it still turned out pretty awesome. I’ve submitted the photos to you as proof. I hope you approve.  _

_ On a real note, it is quite nice to learn these new things about the culture. It’s something my parents wanted me to do… I don’t know why I never felt the need to. My dad did try, gotta give him that. When I was about ten, he thought it would be good for me to learn about my roots and signed me up to learn the language. I mean, I didn’t hate learning Japanese, but it was three years later that he realized that it wasn’t the right Asian language. At least he tried. (My dad hates it when I tell people that story. It was actually just a mix up in the papers. It’s honestly not as bad I make it sound.)  _

_ Since you shared a recipe from your childhood, I wanted to share something from mine. I included a sticky on all the boxes so you know what they are, but the main thing in there are the poptarts. Try not to judge too hard when you try it, because not only were they my favourite childhood snack, but also my college breakfast many mornings. I hope you like them, as well as the other goodies in there!  _

_ Also, Christmas is coming up, I wrote a card out to you, but it didn’t feel right addressing it to a character in a book. Out of curiosity, what is your name?  _

_ Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! _

_ J.R. _

Jaehyun had read that last question repeatedly in his head, as if the words would change if he read it one more time. He told the man certain things that he wouldn't his closest friends. The intimate details about his worries were shared under the security blanket of a false identity. With that one question, that shield was under threat. 

When he returned back to the living room, Yuta had sprawled out on the couch with the TV tuned to the M Countdown show, playing SG Wannabe’s _ Song of Love _ . Jaehyun swatted the man’s leg away to make room for himself on the couch. “Okay.” He says as he opens up the parcel once again. He takes out the box of poptarts from the package before handing the rest to his roommate to dig into. “Go for it.”

They were both soon opening a treat each as Jaehyun’s thoughts shifted back to the letter. If he were being honest with himself, it wasn’t the idea of the man knowing his name that had brought on the unsettling knot at the pit of his stomach. Jaehyun had written those letters under a pseudonym. For all intents and purposes, they were the words that James Marcsielle wrote. Telling the man his name changed everything. His name would be associated with the letters that he had sent. A lot of which he wasn’t sure he wanted to take ownership of. It was as if he had drawn out a blueprint of what made him,  _ Jaehyun _ , even the parts that he wasn't exactly proud of. 

The smell of confectionaries had filled up the air around them as Jaehyun pulled out a pop tart out of its silver cover. The pastry filled with strawberry jam was topped off with a layer of icing and Jaehyun has to wonder how one could consume this much sugar. Breaking off half of the sweet, he hands a piece to Yuta before taking a bite of his own. It tasted exactly how it looked, and he thinks that a younger version of him might have taken to it enthusiastically. 

The letters had shifted far from the original book, really Jaehyun had long since stopped portraying the role of _ James Marscielle _ . He had John to thank for that. With each letter he wrote, it was as if John had physically pushed the boundaries of personal space. It was natural, Jaehyun hadn’t put much thought into it as he disclosed certain details about himself. It seemed necessary to talk about his own upbringing in the country when John had asked about the culture. The man was a conversationalist, and Jaehyun couldn’t understand how he managed to put so much enthusiasm in his letters. For an idle moment he wonders what John would be like in person. 

“Here,” A shortbread biscuit is pressed against his lips- Jaehyun took a bite, and this time there was a nod of approval. John had a sweet tooth, apparently. Despite the fact that their interactions were limited and only through letters, Jaehyun doesn’t find this surprising. The thought brings a smile to his lips. “Do you like it?” Yuta asks, and Jaehyun gives a firm nod as if it wasn’t half bad. 

Taking another bite of the poptart, Jaehyun can almost picture a young Johnny enjoying the treat. The picture is vague, he doesn’t know what his new friend looks like - nonetheless, it fills him with a sense of warmth. 

But to start off a day with this before college? He can’t imagine the type of adult person that could possibly start the day with that much sugar. 

“Where have these  _ been  _ all my life?” Yuta exclaims beside him, holding another poptart reverently and Jaehyun snorts. Right.  _ That  _ kind of person. “Your John has good taste.” 

“Johnny,” he corrects impulsively, then wonders at the way saying the name out loud with just the difference of one syllable hits differently. Subconsciously, he knows. He’s known the John Robin of his favorite book for a long time, and until now this John was still somehow an extension of that picture. Johnny, on the other hand, is his own person. Someone Jaehyun has grown fond of, and wants to know more about. Someone whose name is now inextricably linked to the taste of an overly sweet pastry, and a sense of acceptance of the world and himself. 

He helps himself to another shortbread cookie and chews contemplatively. Is it worth sacrificing all that because Johnny asked a question that any reasonable person would? A question that only came up eight months into their correspondence. No. He wants Johnny in his life. And if that means signing his letters with his own name, he can live with that. 

Tearing open the Christmas card that was lodged in between the boxes of treats, Jaehyun smiles down at the message that is so typical of his new friend. His heart does a funny little leap when he notices it’s not signed J.R. as per usual, but in cursive and with a flourish -  _ Johnny _ . 

Yeah, he can live with that. What’s in a name, anyway? 


	4. The Trip

_ September 15th 2008 _

_ Dear Johnny,  _

_ Probation period is finally over. I guess that means I can now be more honest with the articles that I write. Well no, the place that I work in actually appreciates critical thinking and reflection. There's a common misconception, that journalism is the art of objectively presenting facts and events, but there’s so much more to that. In a way it’s almost the opposite. The way you chose to present an idea, how a sentence is phrased, and even just the difference of a word can influence the way that the reader interprets an event or the relationship between two individuals. It is closer to writing a persuasive essay than it is transcribing history.  _

_ I suppose most writing is similar to a persuasive essay. The goal is not to share an experience but to unpack and understand what one can learn from it. Writing is about influencing the reader to go from being an apathetic bystander to an active participant in the world around them. Like you did with me.  _

Jaehyun couldn’t pinpoint the moment, or the day, or even the month that he began to feel so connected with Johnny. He was thousands of miles away, and yet their lives seemed to be more entangled than the coworker that he sat beside every day or the neighbour who always seemed to take the elevator when he did. Johnny had an effect on his life, and he couldn’t deny that. Of course, he might have eventually, out of pure frustration, quit his job on his own accord and found this new one. But Jonny’s letters, the passion when he wrote about his own aspirations, the genuine confidence when he stated that Jaehyun’s talent and happiness was worth so much more than the fear of rejection- it had all ignited a sense of determination within him. He could have done it on his own. But Johnny…. Johnny’s support was a much needed push that gave him a head start. 

_ I’m not saying that without you, I wouldn’t have eventually quit my old job and sought out one that I am proud to be doing. But you made the choice easy. _

The sound of a shutter going off brought Jaehyun back out of his head and into the scenery that surrounded him. The fall air had brought on a nice crisp of freshness into the weather. When Jaehyun turned around, Yuta had the camera up and another click of the shutter followed. “What are you doing?” The man was examining the picture that was taken and Jaehyun is soon by his side as well. The big city that was Seoul seemed like an insignificant pool of cement from the Suraksan Mountain. A smiling Jaehyun was facing away from the scenery looking into the camera, it was clearly candid. Was he smiling? Too deep into his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed that he was. 

“Dude, you’re actually so beautiful.” Yuta spoke and he couldn’t quite place the expression on his roommate’s face. He wasn’t sure if the look emitted a genuine compliment or utter annoyance. Given that it was Yuta, it could be either. Or both. Probably both. “Why do you get to be this good looking and still single?” Jaehyun couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head before he walked on. “You could really make someone happy one day… such a waste of beauty.” 

“It’s been a while hasn’t it?” It had been a year since his last relationship, and of course there were parts of it that he had wanted physically and emotionally but he hadn’t actually had the time to miss it. Work had consumed Jaehyun for the past couple of months: looking for a new job, applying for any decent position, and the multitude of interviews while still working had brought his love life to a stand still. “I should probably do something about that.” When he looks back at Yuta, the man looks thoroughly surprised. “What?” 

“I don’t know… I just didn’t expect you to agree.” Jaehyun almost expected his roommate to continue on with that thought. It wasn’t in Yuta’s nature to let go of the topic just like that, but they continued the hike up. There was still another kilometer for the peak of the mountain. 

_ I guess sometimes your friends just know what’s best for you when you can’t see it.  _

“You know in college, I had a thing with a guy for a while.” Yuta’s sudden proclamation had cut through the song that played in the background. Jaehyun has to believe the confession was motivated by Katy Perry’s ‘I Kissed a Girl’ that had just finished the first chorus. Jaehyun doesn’t say anything to that but chokes slightly on air, dumbfounded. “Not for a while… we just kissed once at a party.” A pause, “Okay, twice.” Another pause, “Okay we went to second base but that’s it.” 

“Okay. That’s… really fine. I don’t need to know more.” Jaehyun stops before the other divulges further information about his experiences. 

“I’m just saying, I did.” Yuta shrugs the comment off and they were back to the silence soon after. It didn’t last however as the other spoke up again, with an unreadable expression to go along with it. “I just think that we should be able to tell each other things since we’ve been living together for three and a half years now.” 

“Are you trying to tell  _ me  _ something?” Jaehyun has an eyebrow raised, Yuta seemed to be particularly beating around the bush and there was a feeling creeping up at the pit of his stomach telling him that the comments that Yuta was making had an underlying incentive. “Because, I thought you had a girlfriend.” 

“I do-” Yuta agreed. Living together, there were always quiet moments between them, they were never uncomfortable however, they had easily slipped in and out of conversation. This occasion was different, the abrupt end to Yuta’s musings had brought an unsettling feeling that Jaehyun couldn’t shake. But, maybe it was all in his head. 

“You know, you remind me of Sicheng sometimes.”

It definitely was not in his head. 

“What- why?” Jaehyun’s eyebrows were furrowed, eyes darting over towards the man to his side. He couldn’t ignore the way his stomach flipped. Sicheng, by nature, was a quiet person within their friend group. If the male did not have such soft features and a gentle disposition, he would have easily been mistaken to be cold. If Jaehyun was somewhat reserved, Sicheng was practically closed off. He had the odd feeling that was not the comparison his roommate was making. 

“You know… same age, very closed off, emotionally stunted.” The two stare at each other for a prolonged moment, the comment seeming to weigh on Jaehyun more than it should. The two were very alike in certain ways, he supposed, and it wasn’t the first time the comparison was made. But this time… this time it was different. 

“Right.” It was a choice not to question that any further. Sicheng was a question mark in many of their books, being as reserved as he was. Jaehyun remembered the group being particularly interested in the man’s life outside of their circle only to come back disappointed with the lack of information that they were able to obtain. It took them four months to find out the man had an older sister and then another year before he told them that he had another sibling that they still don’t know the name or identity of. Which was why when Sicheng introduced them to a man at their thanksgiving dinner everyone was a little taken aback.

Everyone except for Yuta that was. 

Later on Jaehyun had learned that Sicheng had been debating the idea of bringing his date to the party at all. He couldn't deny that it hurt a little, Jaehyun prided himself in the fact that he had surrounded himself with open minded people and yet for Sicheng to feel uncomfortable was upsetting. 'It's still hard, even if you know your friends won't care.' Yuta had said at the time, and Jaehyun agreed. "Have you talked to Sicheng recently?" Yuta asks and Jaehyun merely shakes his head at the question seemingly distracted by the thoughts that he was trying very hard to keep from surfacing. 

As they moved along to the top of the mountain, he could see the fleeting glances that his roommate was giving him. It was as if he was trying to say something, and the deliberation in his head visible on his face. “Did you hear they're making a korean movie based on Antique Bakery?”

“Are they?” Jaehyun seems uninterested, but he could see the man’s eyebrows furrow in thought. Another couple of seconds of silence felt deafening. 

“Johnny seems pretty nice-” Jaehyun stops dead in his tracks, eyes closed in frustration with a laboured and audible sigh that followed. He should have seen this coming. 

“Oh, for the love of-” 

_ Maybe they know more about you than you realize. Sometimes more than you wish they did. Granted, the last part was more about Yuta, than you. I’m very thankful to you. I’m often thankful to him as well, but gratitude tinged with a little resentment.  _

Jaehyun had pretty much sprinted the rest of the way up, five hundred meters of power walking up the mountain had pumped enough adrenaline into his body that he could put aside the thoughts that were taking over him. His limbs were sore from the walk and he had soon settled himself on the rocky ground as he waited for his roommate to show up. 

_ We went to the Suraksan Mountain that you mentioned in your last letter. I can’t believe I’ve been here all my life, and never been. We stayed overnight at the shelter like you had suggested, saw the sunset and the sunrise from the mountain. The beauty of it really is one that you have to see. Describing it would be a disservice.  _

His thoughts slowed down as he took in a much needed breath of air. As he let it out he could feel his worries dissipate. He couldn’t tell if it was the tiredness of the hike or if the grandeur of the place that had diminished what seemed so substantial to him only moments ago.  _ I think you grossly overestimate the beauty of Paris- putting it all on the Eiffel tower, and the Notre-Dame. Not saying it isn’t, but I think there’re so many other places that you miss when focusing on the most popular ones.  _ Jaehyun couldn’t help but recall the words that Johnny had written in one of his letters. The statement was followed by an explanation that it was little restaurants and nature that had brought beauty into his life. Johnny then suggested that he should wander around Seoul, hopping from one bus to another without a destination, but Jaehyun was quick to dismiss that idea- negotiating instead to visit some of the locations in Johnny’s list of places he wanted to photograph. 

Johnny had a sense of adventure that Jaehyun admired, but couldn’t imagine indulging in himself. The man had told him that the move to Paris from America was not planned. According to Johnny, the thought occurred to him in a dream one night and the next day there he was applying for the visa. While he wasn’t packing up everything he owns for a trip with an indefinite end date overnight, Johnny had managed to push him into taking an impromptu hiking adventure. It wasn’t noticeable, but the past two and half years of friendship had Jaehyun change in small ways that brightened his life a little more. 

When Jaehyun hears footsteps approach him, he turns to see his roommate come crashing down on him. It was as if the man had lost all support of his bone structure as he draped himself over Jaehyun, head resting against his shoulder. “You’re going to have to drag me to the room.” Yuta said, and taking off the camera that was hanging from his neck, he handed it to Jaehyun. 

_ But Yuta did take some pictures that captured parts of our trip. I’ve added some of them so that you could live vicariously till you get a chance to experience the real thing yourself.  _

Jaehyun and Yuta got back from their weekend hiking trip to face another work day the following morning. Mondays were much less anxiety inducing than it had been in the past. Jaehyun was looking forward to going back to work, and maybe part of it had been his excitement to mail out the letter he had finished up on the way. 

A month had passed by fairly quickly. The following weeks had brought not only the country but the whole world into anxiety over the global recession. For Jaehyun, it had opened up new projects within his department and he was tasked with unpacking the policy responses to the financial crisis. It had felt as if his whole life had been warped only to focus on the numbers and policy when the much needed intervention came in the form of Johnny’s letter back. His life that had been plagued with a sense of urgency and politics slowed down almost instantly. It was as if their conversation had existed beyond space and time itself. 

The letter back thanked him for the pictures that he had sent and agreed that indeed, Yuta did take some good ones. He briefly mentions that Jaehyun looked more mature than he had expected but then quickly moved on to another anecdote from Johnny’s life as he often did in his letters. 

_ You know, I get that. As much as you appreciate your friends, sometimes you wish they didn’t know as much as they do. That being said, I hate to admit it- but having that friend there, who is there and willing to support you… it takes a huge load off. I know it did for me. Sometimes, what you need is a friend who knows too much.  _

It wasn’t until the next day that Jaehyun got to writing back to the letter that he had received. He was planted on the couch to write when Yuta got back from work with a letter in hand. 

“Letter from Johnny.” He says, and Jaehyun looked confused, having only received the last one a day ago. Thoughts seemed to speed a hundred miles a moment, concerned about the contents. What had the man write to him a day later? Nevertheless, he quickly opens up envelope to read the quick note that was enclosed. A smile creeped up as he read the words, in hindsight, he wasn't sure why he was concerned. 

This was so typical of Johnny. 

_ September 30th 2008 _

_ Dear Jaehyun,  _

_ I told myself I wasn’t going to do this. But here we are.  _

_ I've fallen in love a total of three times in my life. I think seeing your face was my fourth. Man... you're honestly a piece of art. _

_ Your personality is fine. _

_ Johnny _


End file.
